


swallow my pride

by mwestbelle



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Erectile Dysfunction, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Modern Era, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Dysfunction, Viagra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 03:37:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mwestbelle/pseuds/mwestbelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bucky first came back to SHIELD, Natasha took Steve aside and quietly told him that he needed to be patient. She didn't offer up more than that, but Steve understood. He's <i>been</i> patient. If patience is a virtue, then he thinks he should be up for that sainthood that Tony's always joking about him getting by now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	swallow my pride

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the trope_bingo square "Hurt/comfort." Thanks to anoneknewmoose for the beta <3

If it's possible to avoid someone that you see every day, Steve is pretty sure that's what Bucky is doing. He's still participating in Bucky's debriefings, there as a "control" to verify Bucky's memories from before the Red Room got hold of him. Bucky doesn't act like he's mad. Doesn't act like much of anything, just answers the agent's questions about his time serving with Steve, when he was captured by Zola, everything that happened after the ice, and when the session is done, he gets up and he leaves. 

When Bucky first came back to SHIELD, Natasha took Steve aside and quietly told him that he needed to be patient. She didn't offer up more than that, but Steve understood. He's _been_ patient. If patience is a virtue, then he thinks he should be up for that sainthood that Tony's always joking about him getting by now.

He manages to catch Bucky in a locker room after training. He's sweaty and stripped down to just a black tank top. It's impossible to forget his arm like that, when Steve can see how the metal weds itself to his flesh. Bucky wipes his face with a towel, and he doesn't look too surprised when he lowers it to find Steve standing there.

"Hey," Bucky says, like nothing's happened. Steve used to know him inside and out; he could recognize feigned nonchalance at the drop of a penny, but now he's not sure. Maybe what seems like an act is just Bucky getting used to his skin again.

"Hi." Steve resists the urge to slip into parade rest. He's not a military man anymore, not really. "It's been awhile."

Bucky snorts and drops his towel onto the bench beside him. "We had a session yesterday. Did you miss me already?"

 _I've missed you every day._ Instead, Steve forces himself to shrug. He wonders if Bucky can read how hard he's faking it, or if it's hard for him too now. "I meant talking. We haven't talked in... _gosh_ , seventy years?"

"You're hearing everything that I've been up to." Bucky tugs his tank top up and over his head. He's more muscular than he ever was back in the army, and he was certainly in good shape then. Steve tries not to look too hard; he's been telling himself that this isn't about sex. But it has been such a long time, and it's not like he can _not_ think about it, with Bucky right here again. "And far as I know, you were asleep for most of that. Have any interesting dreams?"

Steve's already sick of the faux banter. He sighs and shifts his weight, folding his arms across his chest. "Look, Bucky, I just--"

"It's fine." Bucky interrupts, holding up a hand. "You don't have to say anything. I'm not going to tell anybody."

Steve blinks. "You're not?"

"'Course not." Bucky pulls a clean shirt out of his locker, a soft gray standard-issue SHIELD number. "I don't know how much brain they left me with, but I'm not stupid. I wouldn't fuck up your career over a few...indiscretions."

Steve feels very cold suddenly, despite the moist warmth of the locker room. He clenches his hand into a fist at his side; he's told himself to brace for this, for Bucky to have changed his mind, but he never thought he'd hear it this bluntly. "Is that what that was?"

"Sure." He watches Bucky bend over to grab a duffel from the bottom of the locker, straightening back up with an easy shrug. "We fucked around some. Not like we had much else to do, right? It doesn't mean anything."

"It doesn't," Steve repeats. There were never words shared between them back then, nothing explicit. It was dangerous, and it was frightening, and it was hard to even put it _in_ words apart from "sinful" or "dirty." But they'd had an understanding. He'd thought they had an understanding about what they felt for each other. He doesn't know how he could have been so wrong about the person he loved the most.

"Nah. So don't worry about it." Bucky's duffel is packed, and he claps Steve on the arm as he passes. "My lips are sealed."

*

After that, he lets Bucky avoid him.

*

There was certainly some wild journalism in his time, but Steve doesn't think he'll ever get used to the major news networks (and some less reputable sources too) showing up before the dust has even cleared after the latest threat to New York City has been defeated.

He tries to dust off his uniform some and goes to stand in front of the cameras and lights and mob of microphones, answering questions about the villain who masterminded this attack, whether it was true that there had been a sighting of the Hulk during the battle, what the Avengers' next move would be in the ongoing fight. He's mostly turned away when a voice rang out over the quiet bustle of reporters ordering camera operators into place.

"Captain!" He turns back to face the small mob and sees one microphone held up above the crowd like a talisman. "Captain, I wanted to ask about your feelings on the repeal of Don't Ask, Don't Tell."

He hates this part, the random investigation into his personal life and opinions that everyone is suddenly entitled to. At least when he was a dancing monkey for the senator, all he had to do was read his lines.

He forces a smile, though, even as he's sore from the fight and itching to get back to his team. "I think it's pretty great. That would have meant a lot to us back in my day." They like it when he says "back in my day." Clint thinks it reminds people of their grandparents.

That should be it, but another reporter who was still listening raises his hand now. "Excuse me, Captain, did you say 'us'?"

Steve resists the urge to flinch. This is what he gets for speaking off the cuff when he's still half-rattled from a fight. He knows he could correct himself, tell them it was a slip of the tongue, but they're going to print it anyway. And, really, why should he care?

"Yes, I did. Now, I think we should all get out of the way and let the emergency workers do their jobs." He walks away to the sound of shutters clacking and shouts for further comment. He feels strangely light with them at his back.

*

It's actually not as bad as he thought it might be. There's plenty of cursing around SHIELD, especially from the direction of the media department, but it's too late for Steve to take it back now, even if he wanted to. Which he doesn't.

The SHIELD team does their best to protect him from the worst of it, but it doesn't really bother him. He's faced down Nazis, Hydra, aliens, and pretty much any other awful thing the universe can spit at him. The hot-headed ranting of some people who weren't even alive when he was fighting in Germany don't mean too much. It's just the fact that people in this day and age, with everything that's changed and everything that's been accomplished, can still be so hateful and ignorant that upsets him.

The positive feedback is what really matters to him, though, and there's plenty of that. SHIELD handles all the requests he gets, but Steve makes clear that he's happy to talk to anyone from charities or organizations, and not exactly happy but still willing to talk about it with the appropriate media outlets. He knows they're keeping the bad letters, but he gets so many good ones that it doesn't even matter. He does his best to respond to all of them, even when some affect him so much that he doesn't quite know what to say. Handwriting them is meditative, even if Tony insists that he could set up a voice dictation software and get it done in a quarter of the time.

He doesn't expect to hear anything from Bucky; they've seen each other since that day in the locker room, but they haven't spoken beyond vague pleasantries and banter. Steve's been steadily trying to rewrite the fabric of his being, force himself to remember that Bucky isn't part of his life anymore. It hasn't been very successful.

He doesn't expect it, so he's caught off guard when he gets home to find Bucky sitting on his sofa in the dark. It's almost funny, except how it's not at all, even if he makes a mental note to let Tony know that his "1000% effective guaranteed" Stark Security System might have some holes.

He flicks on the light, and Bucky turns to look at him. He looks bad, like he hasn't been sleeping, bags under his eyes almost as dark as the paint he was wearing when Steve first saw him in the present day.

"What the fuck, Steve?"

"What?" Steve sets his keys down on the counter and toes off his sneakers. His heart his hammering in his chest, but if this is how Bucky wants to be, that's fine. Steve can kill him with kindness; he's done it before. 

"I tried to do you a favor," Bucky says. The ends of his words are clipped, cut off almost before he's done saying them. "And you just...splash it all over the world. Tell everybody."

"I'll tell who I want to." Steve frowns a little. He's not sure what has Bucky all riled up like this. "I'm not ashamed." And that tips something inside him, and suddenly the way Bucky came at him at the locker room makes sense. "No one knows about...I won't say anything, Buck. This is just about me, not you. No one's gonna think you're queer."

Bucky laughs then, harsh and guttural. He looks away from Steve, back at the wall. "You got no idea, Steve, Jesus."

"Because you won't _talk_ to me." Steve is so sick of these games. He crosses over and kneels a few feet in front of Bucky so they can look each other in the eye. "You used to tell me everything, and now it's like you don't even know me."

"Not everything," Bucky mumbles. There's color rising in his cheeks; Bucky almost never blushed, never for pretty girls out on the dance floor. But sometimes when they were sitting on the couch, and Steve would tuck his foot into the crook of Bucky's knee, just to get close, sometimes Bucky would get a little flushed. "I'm trying to be good to you, Steve, and you're making it so damn hard."

"This is good to me?" Steve's lip curls at the thought. He stares up at Bucky, who's looking intently down at the floor. "This is torture. I'm not saying you gotta...fuck around with me, if that was just comfort for you. That's fine. But apart from any of that, you're my best friend. I can't get you back and then not have you at all. It'll tear me open."

Bucky breathes in deep. Steve can see him inhale, his chest expand and then slowly contract. "It wasn't just comfort."

Steve's insides are in such a riot of emotions that he doesn't know what exactly he's feeling; his gut's roiling at the same time his chest feels like it's filling with light. "Then why would you say those things to me?" Awful things that ripped into his heart and emptied it out, telling him that everything he thought he felt was a lie.

"Told you, I was trying to do you a favor." At last, Bucky looks up at him. He looks so tired that Steve wants to take him by the wrist and walk him to bed. Curl up beside him in two twins shoved together and tell himself they're just sharing body heat. "I'm not the man I was, Steve. I'm not...I'm not that man. Not anymore."

"I don't care what you did," Steve says immediately, automatically. "That wasn't you. It doesn't matter to me, it doesn't change anything for me."

Bucky laughs again, though this time it sounds more hollow than anything else. "It's not even that, god. If I were a good enough person to stay away from you because of that, I wouldn't be so goddamned weak."

"Then what?" Steve frowns. He looks over Bucky; he looks wrung out, but otherwise much the same as he always has. Except... "Is it the arm? That...it'll take some getting used to, I won't lie, but I can learn. We can get past it."

"I _can't_." Bucky almost looks like he's going to cry. His face crumples, then smoothes out to nothing, like he's put a mask on. Steve's seen him go cold like that in the field, but never for _him_. "I can't...be with you. And that's why I wanted you to let me go. You're better off without me, Steve."

Steve still isn't quite sure what's going on, but he does know one thing for sure. "I'm never better off without you. Whatever it is, I still love you, Buck, you have to know that."

There's flicker, but the mask doesn't drop. Bucky presses his lips together instead, into a tight unforgiving line. "And how long will you feel like that when you're not getting fucked on the regular?"

It's such a non sequitur that Steve just blinks. "What?"

"I remember what you're like," Bucky says. There's a hint of venom to his voice that makes Steve's stomach curl in the most unpleasant ways. "And after the serum, it got worse. You're insatiable. How long are you going to put up with me when I can't--when I'm not--"

The sudden wave of realization is practically enough to bowl Steve over, and he feels like an idiot for taking so long. He reaches forward to grab Bucky's hands; he just needs to touch him right now. "I don't care. Bucky, it'll be fine. We found each other again after seventy years, we can get through this."

"You say that now," Bucky says. He sounds defeated; he doesn't pull away, but he doesn't squeeze back either. Just leaves his hands limp in Steve's grasp. "It's easy to say it, but we both know it's not true."

"This was never about sex for me. The sex is...I mean, it was great." Steve flinches internally; this was so much easier when they didn't talk about it. "But it's _you_ I want. Even if we can't."

Bucky sighs, looking up to meet Steve's eyes. "You deserve better."

"There's no better for me." It's declarative enough that Steve feels a little nervous about saying it, but once he does he can feel that it's right. "Just you."

"Damnit, Rogers." Bucky snorts, and finally, he squeezes Steve's hands. "Didn't you ever learn to let somebody do a favor for you?"

"No, sir." Steve chances a smile. It feels like the storm has mostly cleared, and maybe the sun is going to start shining through again. "Stubborn as a mule, that's me."

"And as pretty as one too." Bucky rolls his eyes. Steve can see him relax, just the tiniest bit. He leans back into the couch and tugs on Steve's hands. "C'mon up here."

Steve climbs onto the couch. He wants to curl in closer to Bucky, but his body language keeps him a respectful distance. "We'll work this out."

Bucky sighs. "If you say so, Cap."

*

After further assurances from JARVIS that Tony can't see his internet searches, Steve researches erectile dysfunction. It seems like a common problem, enough that there's an awful lot of talk about it on the internet.

He learns that extreme stress and trauma can cause it; it's no surprise that it's a problem for Bucky, then. After everything he's been through, it's a miracle that it's just his dick that doesn't work. Steve immediately feels guilty for thinking that and closes the window that's telling him up to 90% of veterans experience some form of sexual dysfunction.

He reads other posts about making improvements to appetite or exercise, but he's pretty sure the root of the problem isn't so easily fixed. A blog says the best thing he can do is be supportive; he doesn't want to be supportive. He wants to _help_. Captain America doesn't sit on the sidelines and wait for issues to resolve themselves; he fixes things. But the last thing he needs is for Bucky to believe that _Steve_ thinks he's a problem. So it looks like the only thing he can do is sit and wait.

He closes the laptop carefully, holding back any excess force that wants to leak out, and heads for the gym instead. There's a punching bag with his name on it.

*

Bucky walks into the bedroom like he's going in front of the firing squad. He's still dripping from the shower, possibly because he hasn't bothered with a towel. He's gloriously, gorgeously naked. Steve takes him in with his eyes, skimming over hard muscles, the gleam of metal, and the soft shape of his cock. He isn't used to seeing Bucky naked and soft, not for long at least, but he brings his eyes back up to Bucky's face.

"C'mere."

Bucky's clearly got his courage screwed to the sticking point, jaw tense where he's clenching his teeth. He crosses the room stiffly, finally climbing into bed beside Steve. Steve closes his sketchbook and sets it on the nightstand so he can turn onto his side, curling in towards Bucky. "Don't freak out."

"Who's freaking out?"

"You look like you're going to hurl." Steve smiles a little and reaches over to run his hand down Bucky's arm, tracing his warm skin from shoulder to elbow. "It's not the most flattering thing."

"Sorry." Bucky closes his eyes when Steve touches him. He's obviously trying to relax, but it's not exactly working. "Forget about it. This was a stupid idea."

"It's not." Steve frowns and shifts in closer. He's still got his sweatpants on, but he can feel the warmth of Bucky's skin when he tucks his knee between Bucky's so they slot together like puzzle pieces. "We're just going to try and enjoy ourselves, okay? No pressure."

Bucky snorts, but he moves his hand to Steve's hip, fingertips slipping under the elastic waist of his sweatpants, finding nothing but bare skin underneath. "Like I could ever be in bed with you and not be dying to...to--"

He falters, and Steve takes advantage of the pause to kiss him instead. Bucky kisses back eagerly, seems grateful for the distraction. It's been so long since they had even this; Steve can't get enough of Bucky's lips, such a familiar taste.

It's easy to lose himself in this. Stretched out together in bed with the soft sound of rain against the window, he can close his eyes and sink into it. Bucky kisses just like he did back then, and Steve's not sure if that means something reset in him when he came back, or if the Winter Soldier has been kissing people with Bucky's sweet, generous ease; it's not a topic he wants to dwell on, so he just curls his hand lightly around Bucky's jaw and pushes in deeper. They kiss like they need it, trading licks and nibbles, kissing until even Steve's lips are tingling and bruised.

"Making out like teenagers," Tony likes to say, and maybe it's true. They never got to be teenagers; there were certainly dissolute youth in their day, but not poor boys, not orphans. They were men already, then. Not to say they didn't still spend plenty of time necking. But just this, kissing and canoodling with no intention of going farther, just touch for touch's sake - that's new, and Steve is enjoying it more than he thought he would.

Enjoying it too much, maybe. He groans and his hips rock forward, instinctively, and he feels it in his whole body when Bucky shuts down. 

"Don't," he mumbles against Bucky's lips, wrapping his hand around Bucky's elbow to try to stop him from pulling away. Bucky doesn't move any farther, thankfully, but he does turn his face away. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Bucky snorts, and Steve can feel how tense he is. "You got nothing to be sorry for."

"Then neither of us do." Steve rubs his thumb against Bucky's skin. "Come on, that was good, wasn't it? Let's do it some more."

Bucky sighs. He turns back to Steve, and Steve feels like it's a minor victory until he sees the expression on his face: tight, hesitant, so unlike the brash guy he knew. "I can blow you?"

Steve recoils. "Bucky, no."

"You like that, don't you?" Bucky presses on, sitting up and pressing his hand over the hard bulge of Steve's erection. "Not the same as getting fucked, but it'll be good."

"Jesus Christ, Bucky." Steve shivers, but he wraps his hand around Bucky's wrist, pulling him away. "That's not what this is about."

"Tell that to your johnson, Cap." Bucky tugs his hand out of Steve's grip and glares up at him. "He seems to be pretty sure about what comes next."

"That's not fair." Steve hates fighting with Bucky. It was so good just a minute ago, and now it's already going to hell. "Sorry for finding you attractive. I don't need to get off every time I get hard."

"Maybe before. Don't play the brave soldier with me, Steve, I know you." Bucky makes a face, and he's already gone. Even though he's sitting here, he's pulled back into himself, where Steve can't reach him. "You'll come three times in a row, just off of this. Doesn't it fucking hurt?"

Steve wants to say no, but he's not going to get anywhere with Bucky if he lies to him. "So I'll take care of it when I need to."

"But you won't let me do it." 

"Because you can't--it's not just about sex." Steve knows he's getting flustered, but he can't help it. This whole situation is like a minefield, and he doesn't know where it's safe to step. He glances down at Bucky's cock, still soft against his thigh, and licks his lips. "What if I--"

Bucky's knees go up with the force of a door slamming shut. "Don't."

Steve huffs out a sigh. "It's worth a shot, isn't it?"

"There's no shot to take, Steve." Bucky shakes his head, wrapping his arms around his knees, like he needs another layer of protection. "It'd just be...disappointing. For both of us."

"Fine." Steve runs his hand through his hair. "We'll just think of something else. For next time. I'm going to take a shower."

Bucky nods, and Steve resists the urge to run for the bathroom. He knows that Bucky knows exactly what he's doing, but it doesn't stop him from biting down on his forearm as he jerks himself under the spray of the shower, forcing out three of the most unsatisfying orgasms he's ever had.

*

Steve's at home reading when Bucky gets in. It's immediately obvious that he's excited about something, slamming the door with less care than men of superhuman ability ought to take and pacing in front of the coffee table.

"I got something," he says. His eyes are bright, and Steve sets his book aside immediately. Bucky digs in his pocket and shows Steve a small bag with a handful of blue pills inside.

"Is it medicine?"

"Yeah." Bucky grins. "It's supposed to solve my problem."

"Really?" Steve shouldn't be surprised that they make things like that today; it seems like there's a pill for everything now, even things he didn't know were sicknesses before. "The doctor didn't recommend it before?"

"Didn't get it from the doctor." Bucky rolls his eyes. He's already got the bag open, dry swallowing four pills at once, even as Steve frowns. "I can work it out on my own." Steve's pretty sure that means he got an answer that he didn't like; Bucky never takes anything lying down.

"If you're sure--" he starts, but Bucky is already pushing his book off the couch, climbing into his lap to kiss him hard.

"I'm sure, Steve, I need this." He cups both hands around Steve's face, the difference in temperature enough to make Steve shiver. "Need you."

He rocks against Steve while they kiss, an impatient grind of their hips together. It takes a few minutes, but slowly, Steve starts to feel Bucky getting hard against him. He's tried to forget how much he craves this, how he's missed it, but now he moans into Bucky's mouth. This isn't a permanent solution, he knows, but if they can just have this, maybe they can make it through.

Bucky pushes up onto his knees so he can get his pants undone, pushed down over his hips. Steve takes the hint and opens his own jeans. Bucky's cock is just as gorgeous as he remembered, a little shorter than his own after the serum, but deliciously thick with a dark plump head. Bucky arches a little, wrapping his hand around the base to show himself off. "You miss that, Rogers?"

"Maybe." Steve pushes forward so their dicks rub together, getting a hand around both of them for one long stroke that makes them both groan. Bucky feels like steel under skin, so hard in his hand. His dick is flushed so dark with blood, darker than Steve's ever seen, and he says a quick prayer that the pills are safe. Bucky seems to be enjoying himself at least, panting as he rocks into Steve's hand. He hasn't even been able to get hard alone, Steve knows; this is the first erection he's had since he got his memory back.

Steve wants to take his time, feel Bucky properly, but he hardly gets a few strokes in before Bucky is pushing his hand off, clambering out of Steve's lap. "Let me fuck you, Steve, c'mon. I know you're dying for it."

The speed at which Steve shoves his pants down the rest of the way belies any denial he could make. He rolls over onto his hands and knees on the couch; he doesn't even want to walk fifteen feet to the bedroom, and the heady rush of giving in to lust is intoxicating. Bucky groans appreciatively, and Steve feels the tease of Bucky's finger at his hole, moistened by spit.

"Don't bother," Steve says. He closes his eyes, holding onto the arm of the couch. "I want to feel the stretch." It's been too long, and the serum makes it so easy to take it like he never could before. Back when Bucky would spend ages teasing and slicking him until he was open enough for a few thrusts.

"That's my Captain." Bucky slaps his flank fondly, then the fat head of his cock is pressing at Steve's entrance. The anticipation burns hot in Steve's belly, and he almost just shoves himself back on it, too impatient to even wait for a thrust. But Bucky doesn't make him wait long; he pushes in, both of them groaning low as Steve's body strains to accept him, then molds tight to him as he slides home. "Fuck, Steve, baby."

"I know." Steve presses his forehead against the back of his hand, arching his back and pressing his ass back against Bucky. 

"Wanted to do this for so long," Bucky mumbles. He starts fucking Steve properly, too fast for most people; he wouldn't have any patience left, not with how difficult it's been to even get this far. His thrusts are quick, with military precision. Until they're not. "No. _Fuck_ , no no no."

Bucky's cock is going soft inside of him; it's usually a feeling that signifies the end of some great sex, so Steve's body can't dislike the sensation, even as his heart breaks. Bucky pulls out, and Steve can hear him frantically jerking himself, trying to bring it back, but it's too late.

Steve shifts onto his side. He feels gaping, empty, like he's lost something more than just Bucky's cock inside him. "We burn through things faster than other people."

"Jesus fuck." Bucky sits down heavily. His hand is still cupped loosely around his soft cock, like he can't quite believe it.

"It's okay." Steve reaches for him, but Bucky shakes his head. He gets up and tugs his boxers and pants back up.

"I need some air. I'll see you later." He's gone before Steve figures out what to say, and he doesn't come back before bed.

*

Training seems like a good option to work out his stress; it doesn't help that much, but it can't hurt either. Steve stays away from the punching bag this time, doing laps around the indoor track instead. He's stopped for some jumping jacks when Natasha greets him with a hard cuff to the back of his head. Steve grunts and reaches back to rub the soreness.

"With all due respect," she says, as though she didn't just hit him, "I understand that you've saved the world several times, but right now I'm not sure how you got your head out of your ass long enough to do it."

Steve wrinkles his nose. "Bucky talked to you?"

"You're both idiots," is her only response. She's dressed in simple, soft black clothes and slides down into the splits as he watches her. "You need to stop being a martyr and let him touch you."

"He can touch me," Steve says, affronted. Natasha gives him a flat look, and he flushes. "It's not...it wouldn't be fair, for me to take advantage."

"That's what you think." She shifts, legs sliding fluidly back to meet behind her as she pushes herself up into a deep snake's pose. "Or maybe you're telling him that if he can't get it up, he's not good enough for you."

It's like a lightbulb coming on to illuminate a very dirty room. Steve's stomach turns, and he bites the inside of his cheek to stifle a curse; he still hasn't quite gotten used to swearing around women. "You think he thinks that?"

"I think you and James need to sort this out on your own." Natasha rearranges her limbs, switching to a mermaid pose and giving him a dark look. "As soon as possible."

"Yes, ma'am." Steve nods, and turns to go, remembering at the last second to pivot back to her. "Thanks, Tasha."

It takes a moment, but she smiles. "Couples fight. The ones that last learn to talk afterwards."

He heads straight back to the apartment; it smells like warm bread and cabbage when he comes in, and he's not surprised to find Bucky in the kitchen. He's washing out a bowl, and on a platter are a little pile of little shiny golden buns.

"What's this?"

"Pirozhki." Bucky sets the bowl on the counter and grabs a towel. He shrugs, looking a little embarrassed. "They were--it was never real. But I thought my grandmother used to make them, back before. I still crave them sometimes."

"They smell good." Steve feels like he usually does with people in the 21st century that he doesn't know, like he's going to say the wrong thing and look like an idiot. He hates feeling like that around Bucky. He watches Bucky select a bun from the pile and blurts out, "If you want to blow me, you can."

Bucky's halfway through biting down, and he stares at Steve, taking a long moment to chew and swallow before he speaks. "What?"

"I mean." Steve reaches up to rub the back of his neck, which is suddenly feeling hot and prickly. "It didn't have anything to do with you, when I said no. I just felt like I was _using_ you, if I was the only one getting mine."

"Oh." Bucky takes another bite, and it's driving Steve a little crazy to have his admission just sitting out there while Bucky acts so nonchalant. But after he swallows, Steve can see that his cheeks are a little flushed too. "I thought you just...didn't want to."

"Jesus." Steve can't help but laugh at that. "Seriously, Bucky? You're _you._ How could I ever not want to? I just want it to be good for both of us."

"It would be good." Bucky finishes off his bun. He looks Steve over. "It would make me feel better, to have something. Better than nothing, isn't it?"

*

Bucky's mouth is a revelation. As good as he remembered it being, it couldn't quite capture what the reality is actually like; if he could have remembered this exactly, he's ashamed to admit that he doesn't know if he could have held out so long. Maybe it would have been for the best.

Steve cards his hand through Bucky's hair, enjoying the change in the length. He's got something to hold onto now, not like the Army-approved cut of days gone by. He holds on because he knows Bucky loves it, because it earns him eager noises around his cock.

He's already come once, and he's still hard, though not as painfully so. He can enjoy himself more this time; the first one was a desperate rush to the end for both of them, Bucky milking every last drop from him while he groaned. Bucky went after him with military efficiency, like he had something prove. It seems like they're both having more fun now; Bucky's almost playful, teasing at the head of his dick or pulling off to suck on his balls. 

"You're amazing," he says. He knows he's been talking too much, but the novelty of being as loud as he wants during sex is a heady thing. He can say what he wants, moan as loud as he wants, and there's nothing anyone can do about it. And if someone wants to say something, well; he's not a 90-pound weakling anymore, and he's pretty sure Bucky would have something to say about that too. "I love you so much, god. Missed you. You feel so good."

Bucky pulls off and grins up at him, stroking him easily. "Tell me something I don't know, Rogers." It's everything Steve wanted, to have this again. It's fun and it's easy, and it feels incredible.

Steve smiles back, lashes lowered. "How about this - you're up next, soldier."

He sees Bucky's smile falter, his hand still on his dick. "Steve, this is great, but I--"

"You look like you're having a good time down there." Steve keeps his voice as light as possible, even as he keeps eye contact with Bucky, silently begging him to understand. "Wouldn't be fair if I didn't get my chance, would it?"

"Guess not." Bucky lets out air in a shaky breath, but he does smile again. It's smaller, hopeful, and Steve's determined not to disappoint him. Bucky takes him back down, almost all the way in with one swallow. Steve gasps and maybe tugs a little on his hair; just enough to make Bucky moan around him, the vibrations making Steve's insides turn to jelly.

He warns Bucky before he comes, though he already swallowed the first time, so there's no reason to expect anything different. His erection is starting to flag properly now; if he worked at it, he could probably get fully hard again now, but he'd rather focus his efforts elsewhere.

Steve convinces Bucky to stretch out on his back, and then to spread his thighs properly so Steve can settle between them. His dick is, as expected, still soft, lying delicately against his thigh. Steve exhales, letting his warm breath hit Bucky's groin. Bucky groans, and when Steve looks up he sees Bucky's got his metal arm across his face, shielding his eyes.

He doesn't know exactly what he's supposed to do, so he just jumps right in. He leans in and licks a careful line over Bucky's dick. He knew that it would be soft, of course, but he never really considered how it would feel under his tongue. It's almost silky. He carefully wraps his hand around it, guiding Bucky's cock into his mouth. It's easy to fit the whole thing like this, and Steve can trace his tongue over Bucky's skin, feel how delicate he is. This feels entirely different from sucking a hard cock, and Steve's not convinced that's a bad thing.

His other hand rests on Bucky's thigh, rubbing gently. Slowly, he can feel Bucky start to relax under him, even to shift a little, like he's enjoying it. Steve's always loved knowing that he's doing a good job, so it just makes him suck harder.

It's meditative, and he's not sure how long he's been playing when Bucky starts pushing him off. Steve pulls back right away and looks up at Bucky, concerned, but Bucky just laughs. He looks wrecked, in a good way, all flushed and sweaty, with his eyes dark.

"S'too much. Come up here." Steve obeys immediately, settling on his side next to Bucky. Bucky smiles lazily and leans in to kiss him softly. "Thanks."

"That was nice." Steve closes his eyes and nudges his nose against Bucky's. He thinks that maybe Natasha is right, and they have been stupid. Really, there's no maybe about it. "We should do that again."

"Yeah." Bucky exhales. He's not really post-coital, Steve knows, but he'd be hard pressed to tell the difference. "Until we--that's good. Fills in some gaps, huh?"

"Definitely."

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://villainsexuale.tumblr.com) for feels, ficlets, and fun!


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